words, and began to drag her back round the foot of the bed towards the
door.

Pen felt as if something were burning in his chest, and he breathed
harder, for there was a twofold struggle taking place therein between
the desire to interfere and the feeling of prudence that told him he had
no right to meddle under the circumstances in which he was placed.

Prudence meant well, and there was something very frank and brave in her
suggestions; but she had the worst of it, for the girl began to resist
and retort upon her assailant angrily, her eyes flashing as she
struggled bravely to drag her wrist away; but she was almost helpless
against the strong muscles of the man, and the next moment she turned
upon Pen an appealing look, as she uttered one word which could only
mean "Help!"

Pen took that to be the meaning, and the hot feeling in his young
English breast burst, metaphorically, into flame.

Springing at the young Spaniard, he literally wrested the girl from his
grasp; and as she sprang now to catch at Punch's extended hand, Pen
closed with her assailant, there was a brief struggle, and the Spaniard
was driven here and there for a few moments before he caught his heel
against the rough sill at the bottom of the doorway and went down
heavily outside, but only to spring up again with his teeth bared like
those of some wild beast as he sprang at Pen.

A piercing shriek came from the girl's lips, and she tried to free
herself from Punch's detaining hand; but the boy held fast, checking the
girl in her brave effort to throw herself between the contending pair,
while Punch uttered the warning cry, "Look out! Mind, comrade! Knife!
Knife!"

The next instant there was a dull thud, and the Spaniard fell heavily in
the doorway, while Pen stood breathing hard, shaking his now open hand,
which was rapidly growing discoloured.

"Has he cut you, comrade?" cried Punch in a husky voice.

"No. All right!" panted Pen with a half-laugh. "It's only the skin
off--his teeth. I hit first," But he muttered to himself, "Cowardly
brute! It was very near.--No, no, my girl," he said now, aloud, as the
girl stripped a little handkerchief from her neck and came up to him
timidly, as if to bind up his bleeding knuckles. "I will go down to the
stream. That will soon stop;" and he brushed past her, to again face
the Spaniard, who was approaching him cautiously now, knife in hand,
apparently about to spring.

"Oh, that's it, is it?"